


Coming Home to Sleep

by mayanas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Canon Compliant, Early Work, F/M, Family, Romance, Slice of Life, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 16:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayanas/pseuds/mayanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry comes home to his family after a difficult mission as an auror. A slice of life of Harry and Ginny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home to Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic! I wrote this a couple of years ago and published it over at ffn. Now it's here! Reasonably canon compliant if I recall correctly.  
>  **Additional warning:** Mentions of background violence involving vampires.

Harry was knackered.

He trudged down the street toward number 12 Grimmauld Place, feeling as if his feet were made of lead.

He'd had to work almost none-stop every day for the past two weeks. No less than five times had he been awakened in the middle of the night to go back to work to follow new leads. 'The Bitty Bloody Bother,' as he and the other aurors had jokingly called the few night-time mysteries when the whole thing had first started happening (what appeared to be years and years ago but in actuality was only three months) had come to a head, finally. What had seemed to be isolated and unrelated vampire attacks had turned out to be neither particularly bitty nor merely bothersome when it turned out there was a crazed vampire on a spree of revenge on the loose. Harry fervently wished that it hadn’t been bloody either.

Now that it was over Harry was ready hit the sack and enter a coma for at least a week.

 

Ready to fall asleep on his feet he lifted the guarding spells, opened the front door and entered. He stood for a moment with his eyes closed in the hallway, sighing heavily.

Home.

He used a quick spell on his glasses to stop them steaming up, and then he took off his heavy cloak and used a drying spell to get rid of the moisture that clung to it. The weather had been very damp lately and he wouldn’t be surprised if an autumn storm was on the way, ready to wake them all up in the middle of the night by making the old house creak and moan. Not this night, Harry hoped.

Harry could hear humming and banging pots and pans noises coming from the kitchen below; Molly, who’d come over a couple of hours every day to help out a bit while Harry was so busy at work, was obviously preparing dinner.

She came up from the stairwell just as Harry had finished removing his boots.

“Hello, Harry!” She came over and gave him a big hug. “I wasn’t sure I heard the door. That old horrid woman was awful, but she was good at letting people know if someone had come in. It was a good idea you had, though.” She released him and scrutinised his face. “Oh dear, you look exhausted. Let me get those for you. Is it raining out?” she finished, eyeing the muddy boots she’d just taken from his hands.

“Hello, Mrs. Weasley.” Harry smiled a wan smile at her.

It had taken weeks and a lot trial and error by curse breakers before Harry had finally decided that the only way to get rid of the portrait of Walburga Black was to remove the whole wall, portrait and all, and build a new one.

“Thank you. No rain, no, not at the moment. I've just been trekking through a forest in Scotland earlier. It’d been raining there.”

“Oh?” Molly glanced at him curiously while she put the boots on a mat on the floor and took out her wand and started cleaning them.

His smile grew wider. “Yes. It was worth all the effort, though. I wont have to do that again for a long time I hope.”

Mrs. Weasley looked up from her work and clapped her hands together, dropping her wand. “You mean you solved the case? I’m so glad to hear it, Harry. Ginny has been so worried. I don’t think you will ever get her to admit it, but I know how it is. Husband off doing dangerous stuff, while she sits at home rolling her thumbs.” Mrs. Weasley sighed heavily and picked up her wand again.

Harry knew Mrs.Weasley would definitely know how that last part felt, but he decided not to comment and said instead:

“I would hardly call looking after the rascals all on her own ‘rolling her thumbs.’” Then he laughed, thinking of some of his children’s more memorable antics. “I feel so guilty leaving everything to her this way.”

“Fudge, “ Molly said. “I’ve been here, haven’t I?"

“That only makes it worse,” he said, though he was still smiling. Then he grew serious. “You have things to do at the burrow and with George’s next one coming along I’m sure you are very busy.”

“Bother,” she said. “I like helping where I am needed.” Her voice took on a slightly sorrowing tinge. “The burrow is woefully empty now all have families of their own, except Charlie of course, but he doesn’t even live in this country. You must come home for Christmas and stay for at least two weeks!” she ended abruptly.

Harry chuckled at that last part. Did she really think they’d have any choice about that? “We will. We are very grateful anyway, Mrs. Weasley.”

It was odd that, in spite of him being all grown up now, and with the ever-increasing number of Mrs. Weasleys in the family, he couldn’t get himself to call his wife’s mother anything but that. Not to her face anyway. He supposed it was her motherly and overbearingly kind ways that just screamed the old-fashioned ‘Mrs.’ at him. Perhaps it was just a leftover from childhood,. Most probably a mix of both. Anyway, Hermione would probably flay him if he ever called _her_ Mrs. Weasley in a none-formal setting. Or use some obscure hex she’d found in an ancient tome on him, if he caught her on a bad day.

He returned from his musings and found Molly, now finished cleaning his boots, watching him with a slightly worried frown on her face. She had obviously been saying something to him.

“Sorry,” he said. “What did you say? You’re right, I am very tired.”

“Of course you are! You are dead on your feet, poor dear. Don’t you worry about Ginny. She knows how to take care of herself and the children and if she has any complaints whatsoever I am certain she wouldn’t hesitate an instant to bring them up with you.”

She laughed at that and started walking towards the kitchen stair and Harry followed her.

“Feisty girl, that daughter of mine, wouldn’t you agree? She’s absorbed in her writing at the moment, though.”

She turned on him and raised her finger.

“And don’t you worry about me either. You know I love to see my grandchildren and I love being needed and helpful so don’t you bring this up again! Now, would you like some tea? Dinner wont be along for another hour, and I’ve kept you standing in this hallway for far too long.”

“Some tea would be very nice,” Harry said meekly. “I think I would like a bath and a change of clothes before dinner, though.”

“That’s fine, Harry, you go on upstairs and I’ll send Ginny up with the tea in a couple of minutes. Then bath, dinner, and straight to bed!”

The last part was said in a commanding voice with an accompanying stern glance and then she disappeared down the stairs and Harry was left wondering how he had suddenly become twelve years old again.

 

Harry walked slowly up the stairs on his way to the bedroom while listening to the sounds of the house.

There was a gramophone playing some new wizard band (he assumed; that was really Ginny's area of expertise) in her workroom. He could hear her rummaging in there as he walked by the door; cupboards being opened and drawers being pulled out and then unceremoniously slammed shut again. Most likely she was looking for some long lost piece of information that she just found out she absolutely must use in her upcoming article for the Daily Prophet. He wouldn’t disturb her just now, not if she really was as absorbed as Mrs. Weasley claimed; he would leave that dangerous task to her mother.

There was a a weird scratching noise, interrupted at intervals by a sporadic and muffled thumping, coming from James' room which made Harry pause at his door and frown slightly, narrowing his eyes; the boy was trying to keep whatever he was doing quiet, which usually meant that he was up to some mischief. Harry pushed the thought aside and walked on; he'd deal with that when he was more awake (or, he sincerely hoped not, when it became necessary, whichever happened first.)

Both Albus and Lily’s rooms were silent but he didn’t wonder at it, as he could hear they were obviously on one of the floors above, having a loud argument. No, now that he was paying attention he could hear that, although their voices were loud, they weren't angry. They appeared to be… singing? Sometimes the singing would stop and they would take turns at uttering sentences at the top of their lungs, and then the singing would continue. He frowned again, but this time in bafflement. What were they doing? He shook his head; no doubt Ginny or Molly could fill him in.

He smiled. In spite of his tiredness and the noisiness of his house it was good to be home.

He’d been given three days off to relax and catch up on his sleep and that was what he planned to do. At the moment he couldn’t really think of anything else.

He entered the bedroom and sat down on the bed with a heavy sigh and put his head in his hands. He’d got sort of numb to some of the horrors of his auror work over the years, but dealing with the less socialised vampires, and especially crazed ones, had rattled his sensibilities quite a bit. His auror squad had managed to save the latest target and stopped the perpetrator, but the five previous victims hadn’t been so lucky, and the three new vampires still had to be dealt with. Not his job, thankfully.

 

Ginny entered the room carrying a cup of tea. Harry looked up and fleetingly wondered how Mrs. Weasley had managed to, not only disturb her daughter in the middle of a writing spree without causing a minor explosion, but also to get her to bring him tea. He didn’t get any time to find the answer as Ginny put the cup down on the bedside table and threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back and nuzzled his face into her shoulder.

“Happy to see you too,” he said, smiling into her hair.

She lifted her head and looked at him, narrowing her eyes.

“Are you laughing at me?”she asked, suspiciously.

“No no! I thought what you just did very proper,” he said, but he couldn’t quite stop a chuckle from escaping his throat.

Ginny’s eyes narrowed even more and they got a dangerous glint to them. “You are laughing at me!”

“Now, this is more like what I had expected,” Harry said, nodding sagely.

Ginny looked for a brief moment as if she was on the verge of pulling out her wand, but then her brow cleared and she laughed.

“I supposed that was just a bit melodramatic,” she said, a bit sheepishly now, setting herself down comfortably beside him.

“Just a bit,” Harry said and allowed his laughter at Ginny’s quite uncharacteristic greeting to break free, and squeezed her to him. “I liked it, though.”

“I’ve been a little worried,” Ginny explained. “Ron came by and told me that tonight was the night.”

“I told him not to mention it!”

“Yeah, well, he did. Though don’t you blame him, Harry! I kind of made him tell me.”

Harry looked at her. “What did you do? Does he still have all his usual limbs? You didn’t give him any extra ones, did you?”

“No.” Ginny smiled expansively. “Dear Ronald learned long ago that he shouldn’t ignore threats from me. I didn’t even have to _do_ anything.”

Harry laughed as he imagined Ron floundering under Ginny’s, no doubt, fervent questioning.

“My own fault. I should have figured you would do that if the subject came up.”

“You did catch him, didn’t you?” Harry understood that Ginny wasn’t referring to Ron now.

“Yeah.”

“And the girl?”

“She’s safe.”

Ginny let out an audible sigh. “That had me so worried, as well. I didn’t much like what you had to do. Was it bad?”

“It got a bit tight there for a while. Audeber got bitten, but the healers at St. Mungo’s think they got to it in time, and Jeffreys has a broken leg, so he’ll be up and running in a day or two. We did get him, though.”

“Good,” Ginny said fervently, and stood up. “Are you going to take a bath? I could join you, you know.”

“Ginny!” Harry said, exasperated. “Your mother is downstairs!”

“So?” She smiled at wicked little smile at him, but then she laughed. “I can see you are exhausted so you probably wouldn’t be any good to me anyway. I’ll let you off the hook. This time.” She winked at him.

“Shall I draw the water for you?” she asked, entering the bathroom.

“Yes please,” Harry said to her back, a small crooked grin on his face.

 

As he lay in the bathtub, soaking in the hot water, Harry thought back over the last couple of months.

Over a few weeks new vampires and dead victims had started appearing all over the place, and soon the whole thing had escalated from being the “Bitty Bloody Bother” to a man, err, vampire hunt, Harry silently corrected himself, covering the whole country and spanding several months, in order to protect a little girl of eight, the last remaining member of her father’s extended family.

As a last resort and much to Harry’s objection (but he’d been overruled) they’d had to use the little girl as bait to catch the rampaging vampire, or she would never be safe.

Harry remembered the dawning realisation that these attacks were being done systematically and to a purpose; the first horrific clue and hint at what was to come.

Really, Harry thought, shuddering despite the warm water, the worst part of this whole thing probably was how the vampire didn’t drink the blood of the last three victims, and the story that in itself told. There was a murdering vampire out there, who was very very angry.

A muggle on a building inspection round had discovered the bloodbath in Kent and Harry had been filled with frustrated fury for a week, definitely not helped by his ever decreasing amounts of sleep. Why had the family not turned to the aurors for protection? And why had they decided to hide in Kent and not in, say, Bolivia?

Harry plopped his head under the water to still the rising anger building in his chest at the thought of it and took a deep breath to calm himself when he emerged.

The little girl didn’t know what was going on (her mother had stuffed her into a barrel of flour at the first sign of danger and told her to stay there. She had, for two days), but had overheard her parents mention a trip her father, Leon Shawn, had taken to Transylvania in his youth, an old promise, and something about not keeping faith.

Harry sighed. It had been a hard lesson but he’d come to terms with the fact that, in his line of work, there were just some things he would never know the answers to, and this was one of them. The vampire, who he didn’t even know the name of, had perished tonight, so there wouldn’t be any clues from that corner.

The only thing about this whole business Harry was grateful for was that Shawn had had a very small family, and his wife a large one. His heart broke for the little girl, now an orphan, but fortunately so far three aunts had stepped forward to take responsibility for her, all saying that “that Shawn was a rather stupid fellow, always messing with the wrong crowd,” “they’d never understood why Elinia would have anything to do with him,” and “no child deserves to suffer for her father’s mistakes” so she wouldn’t be entirely desolate.

If she’d ever fully recover from the nightmare her life had become, was yet to be known.

She was safe and that was the important thing right now.

With that thought Harry surrendered to the calming effect of the warm water and drifted off to sleep.

 

He was rudely awakened by a loud knock on the bathroom door what appeared to be just moments later.

“HARRY!” he heard Ginny’s voice. “You didn’t fall asleep in there, did you?” It was obvious from her tone that she knew very well that he had. She’d probably knocked a few times already.

“No, I’m not asleep,” he answered gruffly, which was perfectly true, _now_.

“It’s a bad idea to sleep in the bath, Harry. Dinner in five minutes.” He heard Ginny leave the bedroom and go down the stairs.

Harry shrugged off his sleepiness and exited the tub. The water had gone rather cold all of a sudden and he wondered briefly if Ginny had anything to do with that. She probably did know how to cool water through closed doors, he mused. He then found a towel and rubbed himself dry.

He was starving, he realised.

 

Dinner was served in the kitchen. They did have a formal dining room, but they never used it. The kitchen was huge and had a long table placed in the middle of the room, and six plates were set at one end of it.

Harry had barely entered the room when he was assaulted by little voices clamouring for his attention. He lifted up Lily, who had sprung up from her chair to run to him and had clung to his leg, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“There you are! How’s my little girl doing?” he asked her, nuzzling her hair with his free hand.

“Daddy, we are in a play!” she exclaimed, beaming up at him. “With dragons and ghosts and everything!”

“A play, you say?” Well, that explained the loud shouting and the singing, Harry guessed.

“Yes!” Albus cut in from where he was sitting at the table. “I’m playing a knight,” he continued proudly.

“Hermione and Padma are putting up a play called ‘The Frog and the Flying Nest’,” Ginny explained. “Sit down and eat.”

This sentiment was echoed by Mrs. Weasley, who was busy filling his plate.

Harry deposited Lily by her chair and walked to his place and sat down.

“Where’s Kreacher?” he asked.

“Oh, he’s upstairs sulking somewhere. He doesn’t like anyone messing in his kitchen.” Molly waved a negligent hand. “He’ll come around when I leave. He’s getting very old, so I don’t mind offending his sensibilities a little, if it means he will rest a bit.”

Harry smiled to himself. Kreacher was everything a person could want in a house elf, but he was just a little sensitive in some areas, and Molly was right. Harry and Ginny tried to spare him as much as possible, but Kreacher was determined to do everything he could possibly do around the house, despite his age and fragility. He definitely hadn’t been happy about the Portrait being taken down, but had thawed a bit when Ginny, very wisely, Harry thought, had decided that that piece of wall ought to be stored in Regulus’ room.

Harry returned his attention to the conversation around the table. Albus and Lily were still talking about the play; they were obviously very exited about it.

“Aunt Hermione has written it! And Padma is dictating, or whatever it’s called- No, directing. Is that it? Anyway, they’ve got all the children they know to play the parts,” Albus was saying.

“How about you, James? Are you in the play, too?” Harry asked his eldest son.

“He is!” Lily said before James had time to answer. “I’m playing a tadpole, but James is a Wizard! He wont practice with us, though. He says we are too small to be in a play.”

“I can speak for myself, you little toad!”

“James!” Ginny’s voice was stern.

“Sorry, Mum.” James said in a lowering voice, but then his face brightened and he continued. “She is, though! In the play, I mean,” he added quickly. “A tadpole is a small toad. Or frog. Sorta.”

Harry’s eyes met Ginny’s across the table and they shared a silent chuckle.

“Very true, James,” Harry said, “but that’s no excuse. You shouldn’t call your sister names.” Now Harry’s voice was stern.

James looked a little guilty. “Sorry, Dad.”

Harry, having been revived a bit by his short nap and a good meal, discarded his earlier resolution not to worry about the noises coming from James’ room. He looked at his son.

“What’s all the banging and scratching? You haven’t had a ghoul move into your room without telling us, have you?”

“Of course not!” James said, exasperated. Then his expression changed and became a little vague. “I’m just making something. It’s nothing.”

“What are you making?”

James eyes looked a little guarded and he cast a furtive glance in the direction of Albus and Lily, whose exuberance about the play had dissolved any curiosity they, under normal circumstances, might have felt about James’ activities, and they were now gushing at Mrs. Weasley.

“I’ll tell you later, okay Dad?” he whispered, so only Harry could hear it.

Harry’s brows raised, but he nodded.

“Okay.”

 

After dinner, when the kitchen had been cleared and the children had been made ready for bed, Mrs. Weasley left, carrying with her a large dish of food. Before she went she turned to Harry and Ginny.

“It’s been nice to see you all. I’ll be back when Ginny’s next deadline is coming up. It’s a big one, and she wont be any use to anyone during that time."

“Mum!” Ginny laughed, and Harry smirked. They all knew Ginny when there was a deadline on the horizon.

“Thank you so much for helping out," Ginny said to her mother. “You know Harry doesn’t always work this hard, but it was _really_ important.”

“I know, dearest.” Mrs.Weasley smiled at Ginny. “You take care and I will say hello to Arthur from everyone.”

“I’ll take the children down to the Burrow the day after tomorrow.” Harry surprised even himself with that spur of the moment decision. An hour ago he couldn’t even think beyond his bed and sleep. It wasn’t just his nap and dinner that had revived him. Just being with his family did wonders to his constitution and peace of mind.

Mrs. Weasley beamed at him. “That would be lovely, Harry. I’m sure Arthur will be delighted! Now I really have to get going and get his dinner home to him. He gets a little miffed when he’s peckish.” Then she pointed a finger at Harry. “And you. Bed!”

With that she picked up some floo powder and vanished into the fireplace.

 

It wasn’t much later, after the children had been tugged in, when Harry entered the bedroom and found Ginny already preparing for bed.

“Hello my ‘Brave Knight Of Everlasting Life and Undying Love,’” Ginny said to him, as a way of welcome.

Harry stood for a moment and considered. Then he buckled over laughing.

“That has got to be one of the most unoriginal ones you’ve come up with yet. I liked ‘Green Eyed Fairy Boy of Divinity’ much better.”

Ginny too was laughing. Then her face took on a pondering look.

“Yes. Though ‘Flower of Flying and Flashing Flexibility’ has a really nice ring to it. Or so I’ve always thought.”

“It has always amazed me that you can say that without tying your tongue into knots” Harry grinned at her, and then went and sat on the bed.

“Aren’t you going to write tonight? Harry asked her, as he started removing his socks. “I know your mum interrupted you.”

“Nah,” she answered, taking off her robe.“I need a break. Mum really takes over everything when she’s here and I’ve had plenty of time to write.” She picked up her discarded clothes and vanished into the bathroom.

“So. What is James making in his room?” she called out to him. “He’s been very evasive about it.”

Harry smiled. Somehow he wasn’t surprised that Ginny _had_ overheard their little exchange.

“Sorry. I was told in _strictest_ confidence.”

“Now you have me worried, Harry!”

He laughed out loud. She’d find out soon enough.

James had, very shyly, shown Harry the tiny wooden brooms he’d been carving and the accompanying quidditch players to go with it. It was the fitting of the players’ heads that had caused all the banging today. James had told him that it was a Christmas present for Ginny, and that George had promised to help him make them really fly. He was hoping that he’d have time to make a quidditch pitch to go with it, but the quidditch players were the most important part so he’d started with those.

Harry had choked a little and he had hugged James tightly to him. There was no way that he was going to tell Ginny and spoil that little surprise.

“Should we take the children to the muggle zoo, tomorrow? We could ask Ron and Hermione to bring Rose and Hugo too,” Harry asked Ginny when she came back in to the bedroom.

“You really are up to family stuff, aren’t you?” Ginny gave him a big smile. “As long as Hermione picks Ron’s muggle outfit, then sure. I don’t know how he manages always to look like a scarecrow when he does it himself. You’d think he’d have caught on after so many years with her.”

“There’s no telling about some people.” Harry sent her a grin and shook his head in mock despair.

 

A few minutes later he and Ginny were huddled up in bed.

"What's your latest story about?" Harry asked her. He reached a hand back and puffed up his pillow to make it more comfortable.

"Quidditch," she answered, blandly.

He raised and eyebrow at her. She giggled and gave him a saucy look in return.

"Brooms, goals, bludgers, you know. The whole deal."

"Ginny!" He looked at her reproachfully.

"Harry!" Her tone mimicked his perfectly.

That made him laugh and he reached an arm around her and hugged her to him and she snuggled into him.

"It's been a long couple of weeks," he said. "It's nice to be here with you like this again. Without having to worry if a little girl has been hurt because I took time off to sleep. I'm sorry about that"

"Don't apologize, Harry" She hugged him. "I understand. You wouldn't be you if you hadn't done what you did. And this is nice, isn't it?"

He kissed the top of her head.

"By the way, I apologize, too," Ginny continued.

"What for?" Harry lifted himself onto his elbow and looked down at her.

"For being such a fire-breathing dragon in a couple of weeks time. I just want to get that out of the way beforehand."

Harry grinned down at her. "That's not how it works, you know."

"No, but I thought I could apologize a little bit now, and a lot later, so the thing in between wouldn't seem as bad."

Harry mulled this over.

"What do you have in mind? For now, I mean?" he asked.

She leaned up and kissed him, a long hot lingering kiss.

"Well," Harry said when the kiss came to an end. "Since I owe you something and you seem to think you owe me something, albeit in the future, perhaps we can come to some agreement on this."

"I thought you were exhausted," she said, and sent him a wicked grin.

His mouth twitched. He took off his glasses and put them on the bedside table, and then he bent and whispered in her ear.

"Try me."

 

Quite a bit later Harry fell asleep. He slept very well.

**Author's Note:**

> I could probably use a beta but it's an old fic and I'm not messing with it any more (well, I did clean up a few mistakes here and there and reworded a few things that didn't make sense before re-publication, though odds are that there are still quite a few left. But no more messing with it!) Hope you enjoyed. :)


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